


Love Languages

by space_gay001



Category: SCP - Containment Breach, SCP Foundation
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Friendship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26104852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_gay001/pseuds/space_gay001
Summary: A short look into the nature of strange relationships.
Relationships: SCP-035/SCP-049 (SCP Foundation)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 78





	Love Languages

The doctor was unsure when exactly he had come to love his traveling companion so much. From the beginning he was a fascinating creature, always telling stories of far off places and interesting people. Perhaps it was when he started to see how fluid the mask was, and yet something about him remained the same at his core, no matter what form he took. It was confusing at first, a wholly strange experience to watch the mask come back with a whole new body, and new mannerisms to boot. One day he was bright and optimistic, the next he would have a new host and become melancholic and sad. And yet, the mask seemed to thrive on negative emotions as well as pleasant ones. The doctor could never quite understand it, but the mask was clearly fueled by passion of any kind. The image of the theater was surely no coincidence.

He had once told the doctor that when he took on a new host, he would become a reflection of that persona, enhancing the desires of the man within. It took a long time for the doctor to learn to see the constants in the mask’s ever-shifting performance. He would use the same gestures with his hands, use the same inflections in his voice, so many little fragments of the being that the doctor knew. And then he would put on the mask, and they would share thoughts and memories, and it was like looking at the sun. Here was a person who had lived more lifetimes than he could count, and to watch it all laid out before him was overwhelming, yet it was a warmth that he did not know how to live without. He didn’t always live in tandem with the mask, when he would be reminded of just how complex the mask was, but those moments were a constant in his life ever since he entered it.

The endless road was certainly never boring with the mask around. He was an artist through and through, a performer and a poet that saw the beautiful in the mundane. The doctor would begin to see it too, even without the mask there to point it out for him. A solitary flower growing in an impossible environment, or the painted sky as the sun went down, or the music in conversation. For all his grand gestures and dramatics, he really knew how to appreciate the small things. The sheer enthusiasm he had for life was unlike any man the doctor had met. And he wasn’t a man, was he? In all his stories, he was a reflection of humanity, separate from men in the a way that even the doctor, with all his differences, was not. Somehow he was both an outsider and an expert on people. The mask was even fluid in his gender; he would take hosts of many different kinds, and it continuously felt strange and new to see what kind of person he would become. His mannerisms somehow felt the same whether he was in a man or a woman’s body, as though he was something beyond those expectations. The mask referenced himself with masculine language, for reasons he never really explained, but it slowly became obvious to the doctor that he was something beyond that label.

It was just as well; the doctor did not even know what the call this love he had for the mask. He was his closest friend, his confidant, everything he could ever want in a companion, and it seemed only natural to feel such strong affection for him. Maybe in some far off world, there were clear words and understanding of the feelings a person has for another, but here and now, he only cared that he was close to him. He didn’t even have to explain his feelings to his companion; when the doctor would protest against temporarily separating, or stay an extra day in a place he didn’t like for the mask’s sake, he would only nod in understanding. It was a relief to realize that the mask knew how to read him so well, and understood that he loved through simple actions. 

Centuries later, when so much had changed for both of them, the doctor was surprised to find that he could still see the old 035, if he looked close enough. One day, as they stole away to some hidden corner of the facility where they could exist in peace for a few hours, the mask said something, a phrase, 049 didn't remember what. But the way he said it threw him back to their first months together, and he had to take a moment just to process everything that had happened. The mask seemed better built to handle his thousands of years of memories, but the doctor found the years weighing on him in a way that they never had before. They say together for hours, 049 resting limply against the wall and 035 resting his hands gently on the doctor's shoulders, hands, wherever he could reach. That was how they were discovered by a small group of researchers later, which 035 tore apart before they could run away. 

"Some new cadavers for you, monsieur," he said with a dramatic flourish. The doctor couldn't help but laugh, and he did appreciate the excuse to focus back on his work. This, at least, he could understand. He might not ever wrap his head around his feelings, but either way he was happy for these stolen moments. 

**Author's Note:**

> so uh i decided to make this instead of updating my other fics lol, i had fun though, even if i have no idea what this is supposed to be


End file.
